EDITOR’S WORD

Scandinavian Sign and Storefront Minimalistic Design — Not!

By Douglas Towne
All photos by the author

“Why is there an oversized neon sign for Bergens Tidende, the Norwegian city’s newspaper since 1868, on a three-story building that houses restaurants on the ground floor?” I asked our tour guide, a PhD candidate from France and a font of knowledge about the Scandinavian country’s political, sociological, and historical matters. Amazingly, this was the one question that stumped him during a two-hour group outing in Bergen. “Oh, these Americans ask the weirdest questions,” I imagined him thinking.

Bergens Tidende, Bergen, Norway.

Later, I discovered online that the rooftop advertisement, whose neon clock even kept the correct time, was an orphan of the former newspaper building. Its few remaining journalists were now housed in cheaper quarters away from the city center.

I ignored my jet lag to stay out late enough to capture the sign’s neon glory in the Land of the (Almost) Midnight Sun. This was harder because I knew my wife was peacefully slumbering under a duvet in a stylish hotel. But other intriguing sites were nearby, including the vintage storefront of M. Sorensen, a Bergen tobacco purveyor since 1905, which I added to the twilight’s photographic haul.

Sorensen Tobacconist, Bergen, Norway.

Our visit to Bergen marked the start of a three-week cruise through the North and Baltic seas in August 2024. I had low expectations for finding SCA material in the land of minimalism and simplicity, but I was surprised. Bergen was just the beginning of a series of dazzling vintage signs, storefronts, and midcentury façades, a small portion of which appears here. Although understanding the foreign text accompanying the signs proved elusive at times, it made the advertisements more alluring.

Irma Coffee sign, Copenhagen, Denmark.

Copenhagen offered the richest bounty of commercial archeology, perhaps because we spent the most time there. The trip’s highlight was the Irma sign atop a former coffeeroasting plant, with my photograph capturing the neon’s reflection in Peblinge Lake and the nightlife on the building’s ground-floor waterfront patios. The neon hen was created in 1936 and became animated in 1953, clucking and laying eggs seven times a minute. Fortunately, none of the European coffees I sampled had the same effect on me.

Kroggs Fish Restaurant, Copenhagen, Denmark.

Elsewhere in the Danish capital, Krogs Fish Restaurant, established in 1910, displayed a fish-shaped sign with a hook dangling in front. More recent intriguing places include The Globe, an Irish pub with an ornate black façade that opened in 1997, and the cocktail shakers atop the Ruby bar sign, which opened in 2007. As tempting as these businesses were, time constraints prevented sampling their fare.

Ruby bar, Copenhagen, Denmark.

An unusual outing was a visit to Freetown Christiania, an intentional community, anarchist commune, and tourist attraction spanning 19 acres on a former military base in Copenhagen. Established in 1971, its main drag, Pusher Street, gained notoriety for its open illegal trade in items you’d expect from its name. At times, the area has had a tumultuous history, with motorcycle clubs and other gangs violently competing for control of its drug market.

The Globe, Copenhagen, Denmark.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I idealistically hoped for a Jefferson Airplane tribute band playing “We Can Be Together” and for damsels handing out flowers at the entrance. It was not to be. Our visit felt a bit sad, as though the bold idea never quite flourished as intended. My old graduate school friend, Joe Davis, and I were satisfied with a quick walkthrough, snapped a few fun photos, and checked it off our list.

Douglas Towne and Joe Davis explore the hippie commune of Christiania.

The two other Scandinavian capitals also have their charms. The Stomatol sign overlooking Stockholm has reminded citizens of the importance of good dental hygiene since 1909. Its synchronized light bulbs symbolize toothpaste being squeezed onto a toothbrush. The store Konfektion Germania in the city’s Old Town retains its turn-of-the-20th-century façade while selling chic clothing.

Stomatol rooftop sign, Stockholm, Sweden.

While strolling in Oslo, we came upon the Hotel Bristol and its decorative metal grill, adorned with frolicking midcentury figures and geometric shapes. It opened in 1920 as Norway’s finest hotel, showcasing jazz, and remains a tourist destination, but this artwork may have been added during an expansion in the 1960s.


TOP: Christian Ringnes, founder and owner of The Mini Bottle Gallery. BOTTOM: Boxcar Special Blackberry Cordial, a
personal favorite in the Mini Bottle Gallery.

The trip’s most surprising stop was the nearby Mini Bottle Gallery, opened in 2003 by Christian Ringnes, reportedly one of Oslo’s wealthiest residents. The collection, which Ringnes claims is the world’s largest, showcased approximately 12,500 mini bottles from his assemblage of more than 50,000. It’s fascinating to see how Ringnes’s obsession has become an adult playground, though he officially calls it a gallery. The place serves as a blueprint for affluent SCA members who have accumulated excess trinkets and are unsure what to do with them. I could name names, but I won’t.

Maureen Towne explores a not-so-mini vodka bottle in the Mini Bottle Gallery.

The Mini Bottle Gallery is equal parts staggering, classy, fun, tacky, erotic, and spooky. The collection is arranged in 50 installations that might pass for movie sets, especially the grand finale, a boudoir with a secret entrance bathed in red light. My wife was circumspect when I entered, but eventually followed and even agreed that the mini-bottle collection from Nevada brothels was unique. The SCA, after all, included a visit to the exterior of the famed Mustang Ranch during their “Reno or Bust: Sin and the American Roadside” conference in 2002.

Midcentury metal grillwork on the Bristol Hotel, Oslo, Norway.

The secret passage to the boudoir lined with red velvet at
the Mini Bottle Gallery.

Konfektion Germania, Stockholm, Sweden.


Did you enjoy this article? Join the SCA and get full access to all the content on this site. This article originally appeared in the SCA Journal, Spring 2026, Vol. 44, No. 1. The SCA Journal is a semi-annual publication and a member benefit of the Society for Commercial Archeology.

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